THE WORDS I DIDN'T TELL YOU. INNER STATES SECTION. CHAPTER VI.

I didn't say them.

And not because I didn't want to.

Some words are not said, 

They stay there, like blades,

lacerate the heart.

They remain still, mute, 

between the held breath 

And the end of a sentence that never began. 

I have not forgotten them. 

I buried them 

lives, at an exact point where the voice is

breaks and something inside whispers: don't

now. 

Yet they are still there.

Taciturn but present. 

Like the echo of a name 

That you don't stop feeling, 

even though you never pronounce it.